The Exchange
by oneapotheosis
Summary: "...from now, I will get what I want. I will bend you to my will" Will hopefully convert to M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hello friends, I'm not dead, just spending all of my money on flights and making dumb youth choices (Nepal next!). I had an idea, or maybe it's a fantasy, and I love it on our OTP. I hope it's an alright read, so let me know what you think cause I'm a bit out of practice. It's open ended of course because I'd like to continue it, depending on how it's received.

* * *

 **The Exchange**

The idea came to him during an afternoon meeting which included Elizabeth. Of course, he knew it was the _last_ thing he should be thinking of during exchanges of such importance. He was only human, though.

Even in a room full of others - men, women, old and young, perfumes and food items - he could smell her, and the very knowledge of her scent, so intimate and known only to him was enough to steer his imagination. She arrived late to the meeting in question. The door flying open as she strode in without a moment of hesitation. _Click click click -_ the sound of stilettos on polished marble floors.

Not a soul dared to question her, and most of the men in the room stood. She commanded those around her, and even those who outranked her with mere presence. The sound of power. It wasn't _just_ power, it was a peculiar mix of fear and respect. He grinned when her piercing eyes caught his for a moment, pride and equally arousal bubbling in his chest as he instinctively sat taller in her air.

There was no question. Not only did she have control, but a part of her revelled in it. _He_ revelled in it. It made his prospect all the more thrilling. Tonight was one of the nights they dedicated to one another, a method to maintain intimacy and make sure they stayed connected both emotionally and physically. It was structured, but surprisingly that never seemed to diminish the mood for either of them.

Well, things were about to get a lot more structured, he thought to himself. Running a fingertip over his rough stubble, he considered the razor in his other hand. His eye was caught by the leather belt hanging from the doorknob in his reflection, and a he decided against the razor, tossing it back onto the vanity.

Her voice floated from the bedroom as he left the bathroom. "Henry, have you seen my blue robe, I — oh."

He cocked a brow in question when she stopped.

"You didn't shave?"

"I decided against it." he said, running his hand over the coarse hair again.

"Oh. Okay." She turned back to rummaging through their shared top drawer. "So have you seen it?"

Moving to stand close behind her, he drew his gaze up and over her long, lean legs, reaching the hem of the silk slip that ended _just_ too high for pyjamas. He took a deep breath, inhaling the heat from her body. "Elizabeth."

"I could've sworn it was in _this_ drawer yesterday."

"Elizabeth," he repeated, standing close enough that she could feel his presence now behind her. He placed a large, hot hand around her hip, and she turned to look at him.

"Henry —" She started, then reading the look on his face stopped again. "Oh…"

Feeling her warm, minty breath wash over his face, he steeled himself. "I want to do something different."

She grinned, and turned to face him, placing her hands on his bare chest, fingernails scratching against the fine dusting of hair. "You do?"

"Yes. Sit down please," He replied.

Looking mildly puzzled, she followed his instructions and climbed onto their large bed, shoving pillows and arranging herself against the headboard.

His heart thumped in anticipation, mind racing over ways to begin his pitch, but he couldn't let it show. "Elizabeth, you have control in almost all aspects of your life," he began, barely having time to scan the words before they left his lips. His voice was slow and guarded with a distinct drop in pitch. "You have others at your beck and call. You leave many hanging from your every word, and you have no difficulty bending others to your will. You bend _me_ to your will." He fiddled with the band of his silver watch, not breaking eye contact.

Cocking her brow again, she squinted back at him and he knew he'd better get to the point soon, as it was beginning to sound like something that required therapy. "But from now, _I_ will get what I want. I will bend _you_ to my will."

Meeting those piercing eyes again, he saw the animated glint in her gaze. She bit her bottom lip, and it gave him the presence to continue. "There will be rules, and consequences if they are broken." He didn't miss the way she subtly squeezed her crossed legs, the faint shadow of understanding colouring her face. "Do you understand?"

She nodded quietly, but he needed to set the bar. "Do you understand me, Elizabeth?" He repeated, firmer this time with a little volume.

"Yes," She whispered.

"Good." He stepped forward to the edge of the bed. "I will explain the conditions." He glanced back at her, letting the softness of his eyes slip for a moment, giving her silent reassurance. "On your knees, please."

Swallowing thickly, he felt lightheaded as the scene played out before him. No turning back now. She crawled onto her hands and knees, the position causing the already provocative slip to rise around her buttocks, exposing the thin strip of lace between her legs. It seemed that she'd had plans as well.

He climbed onto the bed behind her, placing his hands over her hips and pushing the sheer fabric up slightly. "You will do as I ask without question. I will touch you at my will, and you will not touch me without permission." He spoke softly, dragging his fingertips over the plump roundness, watching the goosebumps erupt on the exposed skin. He heard her shaky intake of breath and grinned to himself. "You will not touch yourself without permission. Do you understand?

Her voice cut through the silence as a quiet hiss. " _Yes."_ He shivered at the sound.

"If you do not follow instructions, or break the rules, there will be consequences. You may also be rewarded for good behaviour." His pulse thrummed in his fingertips, mind racing with unfamiliarity, unsure of where this was coming from. He swallowed, considering the rationality of his next words. "You may choose a safe word." He wasn't even sure they needed one. "But in this bedroom, _I_ am in charge."

Raising his palm, he brought it down against her rear in a gentle smack. Elizabeth gasped in surprise, releasing an audible moan. _Christ._ The familiar tightening in his boxers was distracting to say the least. Repeating the action, he smacked her bottom harder this time, delighting in the richness of her groan of pleasure. Not sure he could follow through with what he wanted to do next, he took a deep breath, rubbing the area where his palm had made contact.

"Lie down," he ground out. When she complied, he reached for the covers and pulled them up. Reaching over her, he switched off the lamp, and kissed her on the cheek before returning back to his side of the bed. "Night, babe. Love you." He could practically hear the shock and frustration cutting through the silent air as she stared back at him in amazement. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and prayed for his raging erection to dissipate. This'd better pay off.

-o-

 **TBC** (I hope lel)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Namaste, friends! I have tried very hard, and I hope this wee little continuance is an acceptable read. I was delighted by the positive response, and so I thank you for reading and commenting. I sent about 3 different versions of this to Adi, so she gets a mention for part taken. Obviously, at this point, it becomes an **M.** Anyway, drop me a line.

* * *

 **Repercussions**

Just a few more signatures and she'd be freed of the day, and lightened by the idea of an early finish, Elizabeth made quick work of her remaining office duties. Sighing heavily, she sat back in her chair.

As she stretched her feet out, her phone buzzed against the completed stack of documents, displaying a text message from Henry. _Where are you?_

She replied without much thought. _At the office. Be home soon._

 _We need to talk._ He was quick, almost too quick. Nothing good ever came from those words either, and she frowned.

 _What about?_

 _You've disobeyed me, Elizabeth, and you need to be punished._

Reading the final message, she flushed hotly. _Oh…_

Her stomach twisted with apprehension on the ride home, not knowing what to expect. It was the middle of the day, after all. She entered the quiet house, gently placing her things beside the door and glancing around for any sign of him. The house air was still, save for the sound of her heels clicking on the polished floorboards. She jumped hearing his voice call softly from the office.

"Come in."

She smirked when she saw him, reclined in the plush leather chair. He looked handsome as always, glasses perched neatly on his pointed nose and his hands folded on the desk before him. Heat rose to her cheeks when she recalled his earlier communications and she glanced away nervously.

"So, you gonna tell me what this is about?" She tried, her voice trailing off.

"The rules were very clear, and you have already broken one." His voice was unwavering and his eyes bore into hers.

It took her a moment, heart thumping in her ears when it dawned on her. The blood rushed from her face and her lips parted with the intention of speaking, but nothing came out.

"You weren't…"

"I was not." He growled, a devilish smirk playing on his lips.

Embarrassment swirled in her belly, but also indignance that he'd called her out, and definitely something else. "Well, after you left me in such a state—" She snapped, but he cut her off.

"In fact I heard _just_ about everything as you touched what I clearly forbade you to."

She scoffed, feeling the heat coil in her middle and closed the distance, placing her hands down against the desk with a little more force than intended. " _Forbade_ me?" She cocked her brows in challenge.

He stood suddenly from behind the desk, towering over her, even in her stilettos, his eyes dark and imposing. "Yes, _forbade."_ He said firmly.

Breathing spiked and nostrils flared, she stared up at him, wanting intensely to shut him down, to tell him that he wasn't the boss of her, but _god_ she wanted him to be. A confusing mix of carnal fury and lust bubbled in her chest. His hot breath fanned down against her face only increasing her body's traitorous response. He looked positively wild, hair unkempt, stubble unshaven and shirt unbuttoned at the top. He looked fucking _hot._

Pushing the chair out of his way, he rounded the desk, circling her and standing behind her. She felt the heat of his body, and his familiar scent wafting around her, making the brewing ache in her belly intensify, but she wouldn't turn to him.

"Bend over." He barked.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she rolled his words over in her mind and her body complied as though she was hardwired to do whatever he asked. Placing her hands down against the cool timber again, she turned her head to look at him, giving him a provocative stare. She jumped, feeling his large hand against her lower back as he gently pushed her lower, forcing her backside to jut out. She was suddenly glad she'd chosen the tight, black pencil skirt, as she felt his other hand slide between her thighs and inch higher. Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to quell the raging throb both in her mind and between her legs. His hands felt hot through her clothing, and even hotter against her bare skin as she waited for him to continue.

As his hand drew higher, he pushed the skirt upwards, bunching the synthetic fabric around her waist. Grinning to herself, she remembered what was under that skirt - the very same sheer strip of lace that he'd neglected to remove from her the previous night. Hearing his heavy sigh, she felt powerful and in control for a fraction of a moment, before his fingers slid through the band and without a moment's hesitation, tore the fabric from her body. She shrieked in surprise as the brief, intense sting of the material tearing at her hips subsided.

Unable to help herself, she shot a sharp comment back at him. "Those were expensive, ass."

Not a second later, she gasped loudly again as his open palm made contact with her bare bottom in a loud _smack._ Unable to withhold the loud whimper that escaped, she pressed her cheek against the cool desk, desperately trying to regain control of her racing thoughts. He repeated the action and she moaned this time, the sting sending an undeniable jolt of pleasure straight to her core. She couldn't believe she was pining for his rough touch, but _god_ he was good at it, and damnit she wanted it.

The feeling of his large hand, cupping her bottom and squeezing hard sent a tremor over tightly-wound form.

"Don't stop…" She hissed.

"What was that?" He teased, caressing the sensitive flesh with his fingertips.

"Please—" _Smack_.

He pushed his hand up and over her lean body again, stopping at her shoulder where he gave her a firm squeeze. "Are you going to disobey me again, Elizabeth?" He murmured.

With her eyes still closed, she breathed out her reply. "No."

"Pardon?"

"No, sir." She bit out with more conviction, no idea where the idea to call him that stemmed, but it just _felt_ right.

He bent over her body, placing his strong arms beside each of hers on the desk. She groaned softly, feeling his arousal press mightily against her backside. Tipping her chin towards his, he whispered against her parted lips. "Good." He kissed her now for the first time, and she responded eagerly, having be starved of this crucial aspect of intimacy.

Pulling away again, he drew a single, long finger between her spread thighs, feeling the hot, slick moisture that'd gathered. Panting heavily now, she sank back against him, desperate for some form of friction after being denied for so long. She almost mewled with pleasure when he slipped two of his skilled digits into her body. With expert precision, he massaged her insides, pushing, pulling, never hastening much to her displeasure. She tried her luck, pushing her hips against him, desperate for all he was willing to give, but he retreated cruelly.

She audibly whimpered at the loss, and turned to face him as he sucked his fingers clean. She moved in for the kiss which he accepted momentarily, showing her a second of tenderness amongst his elaborate performance. "Now you're going to make it up to me. Then, you will be rewarded." He said softly, moving his hands to the front of his jeans. She watched hazily as he popped the button and slid the zipper down. _Christ_ she thought, he'd gone commando today. The denim slipped down his thighs, exposing enough of his lower body. She needn't be instructed, lowering herself down to her knees before her husband. It was automatic, and she found herself desperate to pleasure him, like he _always_ did her. She gazed up at him and wet her lips. She'd bring him to _his_ knees if that's what it took.

Pressing her lips to his aching erection, she touched him with a gentleness that betrayed her current state of arousal. His skin was hot and soft, like silk covering steel and she gladly took him between her hot, wet lips. He released a moan that sent shock-waves through her muscles. And Henry thought _he_ was in control. With her free hands, she cupped his bottom cheeks, pulling him forward and deeper into her mouth. He leant forward, placing his hands against the desk for support as he watched the scene before him. Feeling him stiffen and grunt, she took him further, taking everything he had until his body was spent. He stood above her, panting for several minutes, slack jawed.

Reaching down, he stood her suddenly, lifting her weight effortlessly and depositing her on the desk. She watched him swallow thickly before choosing his words. "Will I reward you with my mouth, or my hands?"

She hesitated with a shaking breath as he touched her, distracting her from all rational thought. Stroking her sensitive flesh, he waited a moment longer before plunging his fingers deep inside of her aching body, feeling her clamp down immediately. She cried out to him loudly, and he covered her mouth quickly with his free hand, sparing a brief glance to the window, where he knew her agents stood mere feet away. He pumped her once, twice and a third time before she screamed into his palm, the pressure and anticipation proving too much for any form of stamina.

Her body was starved of release, and she trembled for a moment in his arms. When she calmed, he raised his brows, clearly he'd underestimated just how tightly wound she'd been. He'd underestimated just how much _she_ wanted this too.


End file.
